Veronica waited for her seamstress to arrive in her spacious private quarters on the Zynthar International Space station. Tonight was yet another one of her father’s meet-and-greet occasions with some diplomat or politician flown up from Earth.

She detested these things, but at least they were an opportunity to get a new custom-made dress in the latest fashion. Not to mention the open bar. Of course, there was never anyone interesting to talk to and rarely anyone her own age, and if there was, they were always woefully plebian. She prided herself on being up to date on the latest fashions and trends throughout the intergalactic system. And these earthlings were always so behind the times.

The instacolor nails she had applied were long, too long for her to do anything practical. But practical wasn’t the name of the game tonight. If she was lucky, maybe there would be an attractive high-level official for her to play with and scratch these nails down his back. She wasn’t above an entertaining game of cat and mouse to occupy her time. These men always came with wide eyes and drooling expectations and never ceased to amuse her for at least a night or two.

The main door to her quarters gave a low tone and slid open. Veronica stepped out from her bedroom into the living area, only to find a low-level guard standing just outside the door. He was too tall to enter without ducking down, and she watched as his muscled frame turned in her direction. Piercing green eyes sparkled as he looked her over.

“I presume this monstrosity is for you.” The guard gestured to a garment bag in his hand.

“If by monstrosity you mean my latest Quan Shonu dress, then yes, it’s for me. Let my seamstress in now,” she said, waving her fingers and turning her back on the guard.

“I sent her away. She didn’t have clearance.”

Veronica whirled around and glared at the tall man, noticing the smoothness of his hard jaw and the deep dimple in the middle of his chin. If he were of a higher rank, she might consider forgoing the dance tonight altogether, despite her father’s inevitable complaints, just to spend a few minutes chewing on that long muscular neck. Alas, the bars on his collar told her he hadn’t even reached a rank that should be allowed to guard her door.

“What exactly are you doing here? You are not my usual guard, and everyone who works for me knows to allow Allysia in without question.”

“I’m new.” His voice was clipped, and his demeanor irritated Veronica. She was used to being deferred to, not spoken to as if she had no right to question him in the first place.

“That’s not what I asked you. I asked who you are and where my regular guards are. Now, go get Allysia so I can get dressed.”

The guard stepped farther into the room, his gait slow and sensual like a predator. He draped the garment bag across one of her antique leather couches, which probably cost more than the credits he’d earn in a lifetime. He raked his eyes over her robed body, letting them linger as they moved up and down. His mouth hung open slightly as if he were considering his next meal or perhaps his next victim.

A shiver went through Veronica as he appraised her, and she reconsidered her usual stance on consorting with lower-ranked men. If nothing else, he would probably be worth the time spent for an hour or two.

“I didn’t answer you because I don’t work for you. If this is what you’re wearing, get dressed or don’t. I don’t care.”

“Who exactly do you think you are? Do you realize I am Commander Gideon’s only daughter? There are certain things which go along with his rank, and one of them is that his family can expect a certain level of respect. Now tell me, junior guard, what exactly is your name?”

The guard smirked before replying, “Maxsym.”

He walked out of the room without waiting to be dismissed.

The door slid shut, leaving her alone with a dress she couldn’t put on by herself, impossibly long nails, and no one to help her.

But the lingering image of the handsome, dark-haired guard filled her mind. She’d have to find out more about this “Maxsym.”